


An Unexpected Gift

by ashwritesstuff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 21:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashwritesstuff/pseuds/ashwritesstuff
Summary: Brienne Tarth paced up and down the aisles of the department store, trying to find the right gift for the right guy.





	An Unexpected Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bearsofair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearsofair/gifts).



> I got the lovely bearsofair in the JBO Secret Santa. Her chosen words are “gift, unexpected, elated.” Merry Christmas, friend. I’ve loved getting to know you this year and hope you enjoy this fic.

Brienne Tarth paced up and down the aisles of the department store, trying to find the right gift for the right guy. She tousled her short, fine blonde bob and sighed in frustration.

 

_What do you buy for a ridiculously loaded guy that has everything?_

 

She had thought through his interests, his likes, his dislikes, and had even asked his brother for tips. Nothing seemed to help.

 

Brienne had been in love with her best friend, Jaime Lannister, for as long as she could remember. It hadn’t always been that way, but now the time that she’d found him repellant was far overshadowed by the immense love and affection for him she felt deep in her bones now. They had started off hating each other—Brienne assuming Jaime was an exceedingly arrogant and snobbish jerk without a shred of integrity, skating by on his impossibly good looks and his father’s money. Jaime had assumed Brienne to be an ugly, boorish, lofty, and “holier-than-thou” hypocrite. It was through the forced interaction of a wilderness survival class where they’d learned the truth about each other. They had signed up for the class as an elective, both enjoying the outdoors and the confidence found in being self-sufficient. However, their final exam was the unexpected catalyst for their friendship.

 

Brienne, Jaime, and their classmates were left in the Whispering Wood for a weekend to use their survival skills. The weather had been miserably wet and cold. It was like Stormlands University had purposefully chosen the most disgusting weekend of the semester for the wilderness survival course exam. Jaime and his ego had gone off on his own, looking for a place to shelter from the storm, but had slipped and fallen into a small gorge, smashing his right hand between a rock and a hard place. Literally. While the fall was not long, Jaime had taken a few decent size rocks with him as he fell, with a particularly heavy one landing on his right hand, crushing it between the rock and the unforgiving stone floor of the gorge. Fortunately for Jaime, Brienne had been nearby and heard his cry as he tumbled to the stone floor.

 

“Lannister!” she had bellowed, when she saw him there, moaning in pain and looking positively ill. He seemed to have a good bump on his head too.

 

“Wench?” Jaime had mumbled, half-confused and delirious with pain, but also a bit of gratitude.

 

“My name is Brienne, Lannister,” she chided. “What did you do? Let me help you.” Brienne carefully scaled down the side of the gorge to Jaime, and was able to remove the rock from his hand. Gently, Brienne examined Jaime’s hand, touching softly to feel for any broken bones.

 

“Jaime. My name’s Jaime,” he whispered, while flinching.

 

“Well, _Jaime_ , the good news is that I don’t think you’ve done worse than broken a few fingers. I’m going to splint them until we find help. The bad news is…” she started while gingerly running her fingers across his temple, “…it looks like you’ve got quite the goose egg on your head. I’m afraid you might have a concussion.”

 

“Ouch! That smarts a bit, _Brienne_.” Jaime’s undamaged hand quickly shot up to grab her own.

_Soft._ Jaime thought. _Her hand is soft. That’s unexpected from the big wench. Her touch is gentle too, but it’s just my head that’s tender_. He squeezed her hand and Brienne blushed.

 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, the tell-tale red creeping up her neck and cheeks. “Let me splint your fingers and then we’ll find a spot to get out of the rain.” Brienne carefully splinted Jaime’s broken fingers and with caution, helped Jaime to his feet. Brienne put Jaime’s left arm around her broad shoulders and slipped her strong arm around his waist. Spying a shallow opening in the rock, Brienne and Jaime made their way through the rain to the small cave that would be their makeshift shelter.

 

That weekend had been the turning point in their relationship. Brienne had to keep Jaime awake and talking while he recovered from his concussion. It was uncomfortable at first, Brienne being a bit shy and not the best conversationalist. However, even in his concussed state, Jaime more than made up for her lack of conversation skills. She started off with some easy questions—favorite sports teams, how did he choose Stormlands University, favorite television show, favorite movie, favorite flavor of ice cream, drink of choice, etc., but then progressed to the more challenging ones the longer they talked—are you close with your family, what were you like as a child, your hopes and dreams. It was Jaime’s answers to those questions that truly changed her opinion of him. It was then that Brienne learned she had more in common with Jaime than she had previously realized. Jaime, while being his father’s golden son, also felt the weight of his father’s unreasonable expectations and control. Growing up, Jaime had wanted to be a knight, a hero of legend like The Sword of the Morning, Galladon of Morne, and Goldenhand the Just. While he could never be a knight in modern times, Jaime had initially wanted to pursue a career in law enforcement, but his father’s expectations had shattered those dreams when he was but a small boy. Brienne had loved, and truthfully, still loved those stories. She was especially fond of Goldenhand’s wife, Brienne the Beauty, the lady knight for which her parents named her. Jaime had huddled close to Brienne as he told his story, laying his head on her shoulder, linking his arm with hers, and slipping her large hand inside his own. Brienne had assumed the combination of the wet weather, their damp clothes, and his concussed state accounted for his outward display of affection, but sometimes she could still feel her hand burn with the memory of his touch.

 

After that weekend, the two had become inseparable friends. The friendship and mutual respect that had blossomed through their weekend in the Whispering Wood was stronger than ever. Brienne wasn’t quite sure when it had turned into something deeper than that for her, but no matter what she tried, her love and admiration for Jaime would not go away, even across their years of friendship. Jaime clearly cared for her too, listening to her thoughts and ideas, standing up for her honor when yet one more man made a mockery of her, even to the point of backhanding Ron Connington across the face when he’d made a less than kind comment about Brienne in Jaime’s presence. Brienne was certainly capable of defending herself, but it warmed her deep down to her innermost self to know that Jaime would be there to defend her honor against anyone. Jaime had put his arm around her waist and led her away from Ron, leaving Ron to search for his missing teeth and sputtering blood from a busted lip.

 

The ache Brienne felt for Jaime weighed deep in her heart as she paced through the store for what felt like the fifteen thousandth, seven hundred eighty-second lap. It would be impossible to bear this constant twinge any further. She had to get Jaime a gift that would let him know how much she truly felt. It was terrifying, not knowing how he would respond, afraid that maybe he would not care for her as more than a close friend. As she passed by the toys and collectibles section yet again, a glimmer caught in Brienne’s peripheral vision. She stopped suddenly, looked, and made a B-line for the aisle. She had an idea. It was a long shot, but it just might work.

 

***

 

Brienne walked through the snowy yard of Jaime’s posh bachelor house, wrapped gift in hand, praying that he would appreciate the significance of her gift. She hadn’t even made it to halfway across the yard when Jaime threw the door open, the warm light of the house flooding the darkness.

 

“Brienne!” Jaime called out to her, waving, flashing his Cheshire grin in her direction. “Come in and warm up; it’s freezing out here!” Brienne smiled a wide, toothy smile at him and felt her cheeks reddening, but not from the cold. He’d let his beard and hair grow a bit longer in recent weeks, making her impossibly handsome friend now both devastatingly _and_ impossibly handsome. His attractiveness was the icing on the cake for Brienne. She had objectively noticed his good looks when she’d still thought him to be a conceited jerk, but since she’d fallen for his heart and soul, the package he came in was just a bonus.

 

 _I have no such “bonus” to offer Jaime._ Brienne thought sadly. She knew what she looked like. She and Jaime couldn’t be more different in that respect if they tried. And yet, Jaime had been her best friend and constant companion, regardless of her looks, regardless of the confused stares they got as they walked together through the mall, the park, or wherever they might be. Shaking herself from her reverie under the guise of a cold shiver, Brienne made her way into the house.

 

Jaime moved aside so she could enter, beaming at her. “Here, let me take your coat,” he said as he shut the door. Brienne unfastened her deep blue pea coat and allowed Jaime to help her shrug out of it.

 

“Thanks, Jaime,” Brienne murmured, both wanting and not wanting to meet his gaze.

 

“Come on into the den. I was about to pop some popcorn and start a Christmas movie. Let me get you a drink,” Jaime, ever the consummate host, bounced across the house, “I know what you want on a frosty night like this—a glass of your favorite Crannogmen Gold, neat…” Jaime’s voice echoed as he sped into the kitchen.

 

Brienne breathed deeply, mustered her courage, and called across the house, “Jaime, wait a minute. Could you come here? I have something for you.” Brienne, not waiting for an answer, made her way into the den and perched herself nervously on the edge of the couch. Jaime ducked his head into the room and raised an eyebrow at Brienne, looking uncertainly at her concerned face and then to the gift in her lap.

 

“Wench? Is something the matter?” Jaime placed a Lannister lion etched lowball glass on the coffee table in front of Brienne. Brienne’s eyes shifted from the gift to Jaime, back to the gift, and then to the whiskey. She took a sip of the liquid courage, and turned to face him.

 

“I got…I got you a Christmas gift,” Brienne blurted out, feeling her face turn hot yet again. “But I’m not sure what you’ll think of it. If you don’t like it, I can take it back…” She began to say more, but Jaime interrupted her with a hearty laugh.

 

“Calm down, Brienne. I’m sure I’ll love it. May I open it?” Jaime took the package from her lap as she nodded.

 

Brienne took a deep breath to steady herself as Jaime tore at the wrapping. _Please let him like it_. _Please let him like it_. She prayed silently. The red paper opened to reveal a long golden box. Jaime opened it with care, but stopped to stare long at the open box, his eyes wide and his jaw unhinged.

 

“Brienne,” Jaime breathed her name as if it were the air itself. Brienne’s face turned Lannister crimson.

 

“I’m sorry, Jaime. I knew it was a dumb idea…” she began, but Jaime interrupted her by pulling her into a firm embrace.

 

“You stop that right now. I’m elated, really. It’s something I’ve always wanted. But, how did you know?” Jaime hummed into her ear, his beard tickling her neck and cheek.

 

“You need to read the card,” she replied, swallowing hard. Jaime, reached one hand into the box and found a small envelope, keeping his other arm wrapped tightly around Brienne’s waist, maintaining the embrace.

 

He opened the card, keeping his arms wound around her, reading over her shoulder. His eyes began to glisten as he scanned the card.

 

_Dear Jaime,_

_I have never been one to mince words. I wanted to get you something that I felt would show you how much I care for you. When I saw this, I remembered something you shared with me the weekend we became friends. I have seen you grow into the honorable knight you dreamed of being as a boy. You are my knight in shining armor, my own Goldenhand the Just._

_With ardent love and affection,_

_Brienne_

Brienne felt one small tear trickle down her cheek, but it wasn’t her own. “Jaime?” she asked, confused. Jaime squeezed her a little tighter and then released her, but held her at an arm’s length, hands gripping her shoulders.

 

“I have something for you too,” Jaime smiled and ran off to the other room.

 

Brienne blinked and shook her head. Her mind was a tumultuous sea of thought. _What is happening here?! He loves my gift. The card made him cry. He has a gift for me too. This certainly not what I expected!_

 

Jaime returned bearing a long red package. He sat back down next to her, and laid the package across her lap. Brienne’s eyes went wide as she looked from Jaime to the package.

 

“Go on. Open it,” Jaime encouraged, giving her a little nudge. Brienne unwrapped the gift, red wrapping paper revealing a long red box, filled with neat folds of red tissue paper, gently encompassing something Brienne had long desired.

 

“Jaime…you didn’t,” Brienne began as she gently moved the tissue paper, encompassing her gift, but Jaime gently placed a hand to her cheek.

 

“I wanted to write you a card, but I couldn’t manage to get the right words down,” Jaime spoke, nervously mussing his fingers through his hair. “But I have something I need to tell you.”

 

“Jaime…” Brienne’s face was aflame, and she averted her eyes to her hands. He took her hand in his own.

 

“Look at me, Brienne,” Jaime pleaded, gripping her hand tighter. She lifted her sapphire gaze to meet his emerald one.

 

“Your card, your words, they mean much to me, because you are someone who doesn’t lie or embellish to gain favor with anyone. Your word means something. You are the most honorable person I know. And the most beautiful. That’s why I got this gift for you. You say I am your Goldenhand the Just? If that’s true, then you are my Brienne the Beauty.” Jaime’s eyes were soft and sincere as he spoke.

 

“But Jaime, how? When?” Brienne stammered in disbelief.

 

“A long time now, but I never felt worthy of you. I don’t know that I’ll ever be worthy of you, but you make me want to be a better man,” Jaime squeezed her hand again. “But I’d like to try, if you’ll let me.”

 

“Jaime…” Brienne gripped his hand a bit tighter as she felt all the tension and nervousness she’d carried into the house melt away. In an act slightly more impulsive than usual, Brienne reached for Jaime, pulling him closer. Jaime met her halfway, nearly collapsing in her arms as they embraced. They leaned in together, reveling in the warmth of the fire and their newfound mutual affection. They sat intertwined for some minutes, pondering this new step their relationship had taken.  

 

“Hey, Brienne?” Jaime mumbled against her hair.

 

“Yes, Jaime?” Brienne muttered into his chest, snuggling closer into his embrace.

 

“We never took our gifts out of the box,” he said, stroking her back.

 

“I got a bit distracted,” she said, grinning as she spoke and giving him a squeeze. “We should correct this.” The two begrudgingly released their grip on each other and reached into their respective boxes together, revealing the twin swords of Goldenhand the Just and Brienne the Beauty.

 

“Oathkeeper and Widow’s Wail,” Jaime marveled, gazing at the two blades. They were only cosplay replicas, but they were beautifully done and well made. Perfect for two people wanted to spar playfully.

 

“But didn’t Goldenhand give it a new name?” Brienne asked, marveling at the swords.

 

“Ah, yes. Very appropriately, if I remember correctly,” Jaime turned to face Brienne and smiled, gazing into her eyes. “He called it _Beauty_.” And with that, Jaime leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered, “And you are my _Beauty_.”

 

“As you are my _Oathkeeper_ ,” she whispered back, pulling Jaime into an embrace and resting her head against his chest.

 

It was Jaime, not Oathkeeper that was her gift. And she was his.


End file.
